


in the moonlight, on a joy ride

by scarlettblush



Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Crack, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-08
Updated: 2011-10-10
Packaged: 2017-10-24 10:11:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,302
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/262298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scarlettblush/pseuds/scarlettblush
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Librarian AU. Charles is the young librarian and Erik is the college student who is completely besotted with him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Note: Written for [this](http://xmen-firstkink.livejournal.com/3278.html?thread=4315598#t4315598) prompt.
> 
> Very kindly beta'd by the wonderful [ascoolsuchasi](http://ascoolsuchasi.livejournal.com/). This is crack. Hopefully the feel good type. Don't worry, Erik isn't a creep.

****

Charles has always loved to read.

He remembers finding a copy of _Wuthering Heights_ in his mother’s room, back when he was thirteen and the world revolved around using baking soda and vinegar and figuring out different ways to build exploding rockets.

Strictly speaking, they weren’t meant to be in Mother’s room, but she was out and Raven had agreed to be watcher. So Hank and Charles set the rocket up, and then, because they were feeling adventurous, built a volcano too. Except it had gone horribly wrong and the room stank of vinegar for days after.

Charles definitely didn’t expect her copy of _Wuthering Heights_ to get covered in the ghastly stuff.

Hank had picked the book up later, after they’d stared at the rain of froth in wonder and fear, and handed it to him, pages soggy and dripping in vinegar.

Charles had no choice but to replace it, find the exact copy--because thankfully the cover was still intact--and put it away on the bookshelf, Mother none the wiser.

God it has taken days, bloody days just to find the right one. He’d gone to so many book shops, little independent stores tucked away in corners, places he didn’t even know existed. But he found it. Raven of course being very little help, opting to skip along the rows, sticking her head out from the shelves and scaring the shit out of customers instead of helping Charles.

What Charles didn’t expect was to read _Wuthering Heights_. No. That wasn’t part of the plan. He couldn’t help but go back and buy another copy just for himself, and because he was there he thought he might as well look around, check the _Classics_ section, for research purposes obviously.

There was something about it; history sitting in his hands, dried paper and splotchy ink stains all over his fingertips.

It was a revelation. It was like discovering porn. The G rated version, of course.

****

Charles is sixteen the first time he sees the advert on the notice board outside his World History class. It’s a recruitment flyer for a summer job at the local library. They are looking for part time help, but only for the summer to start off with.

He doesn’t think much of it at the time.

But, while he’s sitting in the library with Hank and going through their Spanish homework set by Miss MacTaggert, Charles decides maybe it’s not such a bad idea to work here. He spends most of his time at the library, knows the place much better than he ought to, though that’s probably because Mother is always too busy and Raven can only spend so much time with him.

Maybe it’s not a bad idea.

****

He does apply, filling out the form while Raven chortles in the background and Hank looks sceptical. It’s only because Emma knows him that he probably gets in. She’s the only one that’s nice out of all the staff. Shaw, who’s the Senior Administrative Officer, is a nightmare apparently. The _Nazi_ is what they call him.

It’s not so bad, though. He learns how to organise the books, how to help Emma enter the catalogue data into the library's automated system, though Shaw is the one who actually sits down and trains Charles when it comes to the online catalogue and how to search it.

‘You will not put the Bible into the fiction section,’ he tells Charles sternly the first time they meet, and there’s a moment of panic because, well, technically he did do this, but only because Hank dared him to. He can’t say for certain if Shaw is saying this because he suspects Charles’ involvement or because he thinks Charles is a typical hooligan. ‘You must label all the books with Emma and adhere to the system...’ after that Charles sort of zones out and can’t help but notice the large number of nose hairs protruding from Shaw's nostrils.

****

It’s in his second week that Charles struggles a little. The task is simple enough but it’s the one thing he can’t always get right, particularly when there isn’t a ladder around.

One of the things Shaw has handed over to him is the job to lug the book cart around for the second floor, it’s his _‘responsibility, the highest honour,’_ according to Shaw, for a man of his standing. He’s responsible for returning the books on the second floor for the morning. Charles is fine with this because it’s the _Classics_ section and it means he can toss around and waste a few hours without Shaw sussing it out, moody old man that he is with quivering jowls and hacking coughs.

It’s the least crowded area, which is funny because Charles always expected the girls from his English class to be loitering around here. But there’s nothing except for quietness and worn spines and sunlight coming through slightly dusty windows.

 It’s nice.

He’s got a copy of _Sense and Sensibility_ and it belongs to the top shelf, which would be fine if Charles could reach the damn thing. In his defence he’s a growing boy, there’s still time despite the fact the Raven is only two inches away from his height. He stretches up on his tiptoes, hand gripping one of the shelves as he tries valiantly to reach the top as the hard edges of the wood press against his stomach.

He’s about to give up when he feels something on his hip and he freezes, the touch like a hot brand searing its way to his skin. Someone snags the book out of his hand, rough skin brushing against his, and places it where it belongs. Charles turns around and comes face-to-face with a tall man, with eyes that are hard to figure out if they’re blue or green.

He doesn’t look like he belongs in a library.

‘Sorry,’ he says, ‘I thought you might need help.’ Charles can’t help but feel the way his thumb is rubbing circles against his hip, he’s damn sure of it, until the stranger pulls back and moves away leaving Charles blushing a furious shade of red.

‘Uh, right...thanks,’ Charles manages, but the man is already moving and turning the other way into the next aisle.

Charles is left feeling slightly dazed and flushed, the edges of the shelves digging into his back.

****

There are rules, apparently, for the staff. Not the normal rules, no, it’s a different set of rules stuck in the back offices out of Shaw’s sight.

RULES FOR STAFF [version 1.6]:

1\. Do not put Bible’s in the Fiction section.  
2\. Do not fuck in the library, except for the fourth floor – Shaw does not patrol it.  
3\. Do no masturbate in the Travel section. [ _Yes you, Sean_ ]  
4\. Stop leaving crap in the staff room.  
5\. Use soap. There’s a reason why the Men’s room have three bars. [ _Yes you, Sean_ ]  
6\. Do not speak to Lehnsherr.  
7\. Do not make eye contact with Lehnsherr. [ _Kraken, he’s a fucking KRAKEN_ ]  
8\. Do not write on the list, Sean.  
9\. Draw straws when deciding on who is to deal with Lehnsherr.

Charles isn’t actually made aware of this list until the end of the second week and he’s proven his worth, according to Sean. That’s another thing. He doesn’t know who the hell this Sean is until he’s read the list and realises there’s another kid working here voluntarily for so long that he’s practically part of this gang of oddities.

Sean’s got a pasty complexion, face covered with freckles and a mind that is clearly possessed by sex.

Charles doesn’t know why everyone is scared of this Lehnsherr; all he knows is that he’s a legend. Like how sometimes mother’s tell their kids the story of _La Llorona,_ the weeping woman searching for her lost children after she drowned them, and if their kids don't go the fuck to sleep, she's coming after them. Well, this Lehnsherr is the library’s _La Llorona._ There’s a legitimate fear that he might come and sneak the kids away. Or the Staff.

‘He tried to take me away,’ Sean swore one morning, ‘thought I was a kid. I tell you, scariest fucking experience of my life,’ he’d said with a sigh before he went back to searching for the _Kama Sutra_.

Charles thinks it’s a load of cock and bull.

It’s on a Tuesday when it all goes wrong. Charles knows this because it’s eleven and Emma is already shrieking in the back over her stolen coffee.

Sean looks up from the computer and says, ‘Oh fuck, it’s him,’ before scrambling for something, ‘straws, where the hell are they?’

Which is when Emma comes out, looking furious.

‘There are none. They’ve gone missing,’ she says, while Sean’s voice is slowly reaching a crescendo.

This is around about the time Charles realises what’s going on. There is only one person that could cause such hysteria.

Lehnsherr.

Emma spouts some fantastic bullshit on the spot about there being a clause: if there aren’t any straws this means by default the newbie must deal with him.

Charles finds it all amusing.

That is until they all leave him to the lions and run towards the back, while he’s left wondering who the heck this man is.

Until he sees him. And then he blushes furiously because it’s the man who helped him with the book.

_The Hip Molester._

There’s a good a moment where Charles thinks he’ll either die or his limbs are soon going to stop functioning, because all the blood has rushed to his face and he probably looks an unattractive shade of tomato paste red.

Lehnsherr is close to shooting beams of optic blast with just a gaze directed at the kids corner, where Shaw is sternly telling the children it is story time soon. They’re going to read Dracula _. ‘_ It will make you brave,’  Shaw says, eyes glinting.

Dear God.

He doesn’t know what should terrify him more.

Lehnsherr turns away from the sight of Shaw, looks towards the front desk and spots Charles and then a funny thing happens. He stops glaring, and though he still looks moodier than a normal person has any right to be...well, he doesn’t look he wants to eat Charles’ heart out, blood still dripping over his face like Daenerys Targaryen. Not yet anyway.

Charles pastes on a perfunctory smile. ‘Hello, can I help you with anything?’

Lehnsherr leans on the polished wood, elbows touching the edge of Charles’ Spanish textbook, and rakes his gaze over him.

Up.

Then down.

Charles' cheeks are on fire by this point.

‘Yeah, you can help me,’ he says, and maybe it should sound dirty because that’s what Charles expects from him, instead it sounds, well, completely genuine. ‘I’m looking for a book. It says it isn’t checked out, but it’s not there on the shelf.’

‘I’m sorry about that,’ Charles says. ‘Let me just check it on the database and try to find out where it is.’ He pulls up the database, and then realises something. ‘Uh, sorry, what was the name of the book?’ he asks.

Lehnsherr smiles brightly at him, all teeth and little amusement. _‘Architecture Theory Since 1968.’_

He types it in, can’t help but think absently that his eyes are definitely grey. It says they have it.  It should be up on the fourth floor, in the _Art & Architecture_ section.

Charles frowns. ‘Oh, it does say it’s here, I don’t know why it’s not on the shelf.’ Privately he thinks maybe Lehnsherr looked in the wrong section. It’s what most people usually tend to do, and then act surprised at how it was found exactly where it’s meant to be.

‘I’ll ask one of the staff members to check it up for you,’ he says.

Lehnsherr shakes his head. ‘No, forget it. I’ll just do it myself.’

He moves away and he’s heading for the elevator. Charles feels kind of bad about this, so he can’t stop himself when he practically yells for the world to hear, ‘Wait, I’ll come and help.’

Lehnsherr stops in his tracks, turns around slowly and gives him a puzzling look. It’s the kind of look you’d give when you don’t expect anything, not even a little. It leaves Charles scrambling, moving away from the desk. Lehnsherr’s lips curl around the corners, hesitant and not even there if you weren’t close enough, but Charles is and so he knows it’s there.

‘I’ll help,’ Charles says and Lehnsherr gives him a brief nod and moves to the elevator. The doors open and Charles follows him in, and while Lehnsherr is pressing the buttons, Charles notices Sean with his head hanging limp like a hanged man and right when the doors snap shut Emma does a cut-throat gesture in his direction.

Good God, he's just agreed to help _The Weeping Woman_. Or man in their case.

It gets awfully silent after that.

‘You’re new here,’ Lehnsherr says abruptly.

Charles nods, tries to give him a smile.

Lehnsherr gives him a brief, hard look, like he's chalking up his worth. ‘Good.’

He doesn’t know if that’s a good, as in _you’ll do my bidding because you’re new and eager to please_ or good meaning, _I’m going to murder you here and take you away because you look like a kid and no-one will miss you._

It doesn’t matter, he’s scared shitless either way.

****

Charles likes libraries. It’s easy to get lost in the silence and ease that libraries provide him. It’s easy to press fingers into stiff hardbacks and find paper-cuts and dust lingering over his skin. It’s easy to watch other people, too. Yeah, that’s probably the best part.

 _People Watching_ is fun. Charles is terribly fond of it. It’s almost like reading a persons mind, discovering something new and different about them that under normal circumstances would’ve never crossed his mind. Like the senior, Logan, who always comes in on a Saturday, and though he tends to head towards the _Newspaper and Journals_ section, somehow Charles is bound to find him hiding behind _Ariel_ by _Sylvia Plath._ Then there’s Alex, the blond that Hank finds more fascinating than the Fundamental Theorem of Calculus, who secretly seems to enjoy checking out Regency romance novels.

It’s a quiet, easy life, snooping into peoples business.

****

Lehnsherr has a lot of piercings on his right ear.

This does not come to Charles' attention until five minutes have past by staring at a row of books all about Moroccan and Turkish architecture. Charles turns around to figure where in heavens name Lehnsherr has gone off to, when he sees the glint of metal shining from the corner just as Lehnsherr turns into the next aisle. It blinds him for a moment. He’s not sure if he should be fascinated by this revelation or, well, embarrassed that he’s only realised it now.

He knows according to the books reference number that the book should be here, in the _Architecture Theory_ subdivision which should be right after the Moroccan Tile laying bit, except the book itself isn’t there.

He’s shoving books aside on the shelf, wondering if it’s fallen into the back, though technically a true librarian shouldn’t do that, for all books are _‘living, breathing beings,’_ according to Shaw. He nearly has an angina attack when Lehnsherr’s face pops up between the books on the other side, eyes steely-blue and an intense look on his face, as if  he’s constipated or something like that.

‘It’s not here,’ he says.

‘Yes, I know and I’m sorry,’ Charles says as sincerely as he can, because he’s sorry. Sorry for not running away and having the misfortune of being the newbie. Maybe Lehnsherr is going to eat him or hack away his body parts like in _The Bone Collector,_ and nobody will find his body until years later under the Moroccan Tile books because no one comes here.

Shit.

Charles looks up, squints a little and realises maybe he’s saved.

‘Oh, I think I found it,’ he says, jumping on the spot before he grabs the step-ladder from the side and gets onto it, because typically everything is on the top shelf when it comes to Charles. It’s like a manifestation subtly led by Emma.

‘Are you sure?’ Lehnsherr asks, voice distant from the other side.

Charles is straining like he always does to reach the damn thing. He can see the red cover and he’s about to get it when he starts to wobble a little. Something grabs him by the hip and belatedly he realises it’s Lehnsherr. He's still on the other side though he’s managed to get his hand through the gap in the books. _Jesus Christ, how is that even possible?_

Lehnsherr has got a hand on his hip, grip firm and strong, holding him in place before he can topple over face-first onto the floor. Charles can already feel the rush of blood to his face. He quickly yanks the book off, bends down a little and shoves it through the gap in between the books where Lehnsherr’s arm is sticking out like an ominous sign.

‘Here,’ he says quickly, wiggling out of Lehnsherr's grip. He takes the book and Charles presses the side of his face against the cold spine of J. Ockman once Lehnsherr has moved away.

He would’ve taken _The Weeping Man_ over this any day.

A few minutes pass before he notices another presence. He looks down and sees Lehnsherr watching him carefully. He flushes harder than ever. God knows how long he’s been standing here watching Charles quietly curse the man.

‘So this was nice,’ Lehnsherr says. ‘We should do this more often.’

Then he pats Charles on the hip again like it’s no big deal, like it's his right, before walking away, book tucked under his arm.

_Sweet Jesus._

****

Emma looks confused when he returns, body fully intact, whereas Sean is gobsmacked that it didn’t end in tears. Charles would quite frankly like to forget about the whole thing.

Lehnsherr does not pop up over the next three days and life sails by smoothly.

Shaw struts in on the third day, and says in a solemn voice, ‘Charles, it is time.’ He then points a finger in Sean’s direction and says, ‘That neanderthal over there will help you, too.’

Shaw decides it is the designated time for Charles to take over story time for that week and Sean must help him. In other words this means Shaw has had enough of the kids and they’ve had enough of him. The prospect is both scary and exciting. Sean is as happy as a clam. They decide on _The Very Hungry Caterpillar_ as the chosen book, which is all fun and great until Sean concludes that they need to dress up for the part, Emma egging him on. It gets rather complicated after that, and results in Charles somehow being tricked into coming in the following morning dressed as a caterpillar and Sean as a variety of fruits and deserts. Of course he gets off lucky.

Emma finds this all amusing.

‘Oh look at you, Charles, you are so adorable,’ she says, petting his antenna. Charles is mortified to find that she is cooing at him.

The last thing a sixteen year-old needs to be called is adorable. Unless he’s using it to his advantage, that is. Charles sees no gain here.

They herd the children in together and Sean acts as the narrator while Charles must successful try to chew him at every opportunity. He does get an actual bite out of him which results in a beautifully high pitched shriek from Sean.

It’s not so bad after that.

The kids cheer, so do most of the parents, probably just grateful that they won’t have to deal with nightmares over _Dracula._

Their story time is a success. Charles loves it so much he can’t help himself but hug each and every one of their little toddlers, Sean handing lollipops on the way out.

He guesses it’s worth looking like phlegm.

It’s only when they’re down to four kids that Charles notices Lehnsherr casually leaning against the information desk, watching them. It leaves him feeling prickly and unsure, wondering why he’s here. Lehnsherr isn’t doing anything and Sean is purposely hijacking the last two lollipops. Charles can’t take it anymore and walks over to him. It’s humiliating enough already and now that he’s seen him dressed as a caterpillar. Well there’s no going back with that.

‘So,’ Charles begins hesitantly, ‘what brings you here?’ Then he flushes bright red because, of course, what else would he be doing, here, in a library.

‘Came to return my book,’ Lehnsherr says, shows him the red cover.

‘Oh, right.’ Charles replies.

There’s an awful bout of uncomfortable silence during which Charles scuffs his toe, looks down at the floor before looking back at Lehnsherr.

Lehnsherr clears his throat, and says, a little awkwardly, ‘So, you read stories to the kids?’

He nods, perhaps a little too frantically. ‘We just started today, it’s usually Mr Shaw’s job but he said we could do it, see how it goes. It was fun.’ He looks down at himself. ‘Plus we get to dress up, which is great for the kids, and then Sean can help me, too.’ He knows he’s babbling, but it’s better than not saying anything at all.

‘I thought it was nice,’ Lehnsherr cuts in, and it takes a moment for Charles to realise he genuinely means it, and can't help but smile hesitantly in return. Then Emma comes out, freezes when she sees who it is before putting on a smile, asking him how she can help.

Charles trots away to Sean, something fizzing in the pit of his stomach. He’s grateful there was none of that hip business today. But he does wonder why Lehnsherr hasn’t eaten his heart out like they’ve all said he would.

****

Nobody knows Shaw’s real name.

He’s simply Shaw, or Mr Shaw if he’s in a particularly grouchy mood. It would be amusing and the butt of spy jokes if it wasn’t so odd. He assumes Emma to at least know considering she’s worked here the longest, but even she can’t give Charles an answer.

Sean, in a moment of ingenuity according to him, decides to ask Shaw about this in the Men’s room, and Shaw tosses his hair back, looks in the mirror and says, 'Baby, I was born this way.’ Which just puts the kibosh on the whole issue.

Sean is left speechless for the rest of the day.

Charles isn’t overly concerned about this; he’s more interested in the fact that nobody knows Lehnsherr’s real name either. He’s also starting to get concerned over why he’s even thinking about Lehnsherr.

****

Charles spends the following day going through library records and sending letters to those who have overdue books. He takes himself to a corner by the _Languages_ section, sits down and gets on with it, ending each letter by stamping it with their logo.

Two minutes in and he can already overhear Logan reciting Keats to himself as if  he’s never heard the likes of such wonder. _‘Pillow'd upon my fair love's ripening breast,’_ and though he sounds cautious and hesitant, Charles lets it lull him into a doze.

 _He’s got a lovely voice,_ he thinks before he falls asleep.

****

Charles awakens to something poking him in the arm. He has to pull himself out of the sleepy haze, where he’d dreamt of chocolate muffins and marzipan rolls.

He’s startled when he sees Lehnsherr standing next to him, clearly having been the one who poked Charles awake.

‘You’re alive, I thought you’d passed out or something,’ Lehnsherr says.

It takes Charles a moment to notice that there’s a letter stuck to his right cheek. Mortified, he hastily yanks it off. Saliva is clearly a good adhesive as it takes a while for him to succeed, Lehnsherr smirking the whole time, amused.

‘Uh, no, I must have fallen asleep,’ Charles explains. ‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to.’ He doesn’t know why he’s apologising, except that he doesn’t want Lehnsherr to think he’s a slacker, not that his opinion matters.

Lehnsherr nods like he’s realised something while Charles spends the time quickly taking note of the leather jacket and jeans that he’s wearing today. He looks different, a man who belongs on a Ducati or something equally sinister. Emma would call it sexy.

‘Well, you’re young, so it’s understandable,’ he says.

Charles sits a little straighter, slightly outraged. ‘I’m sixteen. I’ll be seventeen in a few weeks time.’

Lehnsherr looks thoughtful after this. ‘Good,’ he says after a while which only confuses Charles. ‘Do you think you could help me with something?’ he asks.

Charles nods, eager but feeling unsure. He doesn’t want it to end with him toppling over a stepladder and Lehnsherr catching him like he’s hoping to catch the bouquet at a wedding. Charles is not a bouquet.

‘Great.’ Lehnsherr points his fingers at one of the aisles and heads over, clearly expecting Charles to follow him like a good boy.

Unfortunately, Charles does follow him.

Charles spends a good hour looking for _Delirious New York: A Retroactive Manifestation for Manhattan_ while Lehnsherr fires out random questions, pretending to search, when clearly he’s expecting Charles to do all the bulk work. Either that or he’s waiting for an opportunity to touch his hips. Charles wants the man to decide already.

‘You’ve only started working here because I haven’t seen you before,’ Lehnsherr states.

Charles is crouched down on the floor, checking the bottom shelf, while Lehnsherr stands next to him, looking awfully tall.

‘Um, yes, I think it’s been nearly three weeks.’

‘And you’re technically a librarian?’ Lehnsherr asks.

‘Well, no, not technically, I just help around. They use me for manual labour,’ he says this little fact cheerily and looks up at Lehnsherr, though he regrets this because it means he notices that Lehnsherr has got a new piercing.

‘That’s nice,’ Charles says, the metal looking terribly mesmerizing. He has to blink a few times, points at it and watches the way Lehnsherr gives him a toothy grin. Charles feels like any moment now he's going to be fed to killer sharks.

Lehnsherr looks like he's starving.

Charles quickly looks at the long line of books, finds the one they need sticking out from the bottom of its spine like it’s been hastily shoved there.

‘Got it,’ he says, pulling it out. ‘Here you go, Mr Lehnsherr.’ And he thrusts the book out in his direction while trying to get up. Lehnsherr offers a hand, and for a moment Charles hesitates before taking hold of it, Lehnsherr tugging him up, close to his body. Predictably Charles flushes.

Lehnsherr is frowning when he says, ‘It's Erik. Don’t call me Mr Lehnsherr, I’m not that old.’

‘Oh,’ Charles manages to say in response, and it sound a little breathless. He feels like he’s Julia Roberts in _Pretty Woman_ except without the lustrous mane of golden hair, and Lehnsherr is his Richard Gere, but sans the grey and possibly the charm.

It’s hard to think rational thoughts within such close proximity of Lehnsherr. His body feels like an inferno.

‘Erik,’ Lehnsherr repeats, and then puts a hand on Charles’ hip, and Charles breathes out a sigh of relief. It’s almost like he’s been waiting for it, this little brand of approval. Lehnsherr tilts his face up with the other hand, and this is around about the time Charles starts to think maybe he is Julia. But then rather oddly, Lehnsherr says, ‘You should really wipe that stuff off your cheek, I don't want to kill someone for acting on it,' before leaving him there feeling hot and stuffy and confused.

Three minutes later, in the Men’s room, Charles sees that the library logo of a lion has been imprinted onto his cheek from the letter the whole time he’s been with Erik.

The lion looks more like a cock.

Dear God, Charles wants to die.

Shaw tuts in the background.

‘Charles, my dear boy, you don’t need to be this devoted to your job.’

****

When Charles walks into the staffroom at eight-thirty the following morning, Emma, barely glancing away from a titillating article, _Scarlett Johansson: Lady Bits Exposed_ says, ‘I need you to go to Janos, ask him to check the computers on the fifth floor. We’ve been getting complaints about them.’

Charles has to trudge all the way down to the lower level, which basically looks like a underground parking lot. The trip down below is always dark and gloomy. You can taste the damp, feel it practically sticking to your skin, until you reach the actual vast expanse of space lit up by bright lights and stocked with high-tech equipment. It’s like _The Matrix_ , except he’s usually greeted by Janos, their own equivalent to Morpheus.

Janos is their IT technician, and it’s during the second week that Charles learns about _The Chart_.

It’s a list created by Janos at the beginning of the week and over the following days staff members contribute to it by writing down the name of the weirdest, creepiest, and scariest patron they’ve encountered for that week. And then of course there’s the friendliest patron, but nobody really cares about that. There’s a prize draw at the end, you win if your patron is the most mentioned on the chart. Shaw has the most wins.

It doesn’t take long for Charles to realise that Lehnsherr has managed to get to the top of that list for a record breaking seven weeks. This week Azazel is nearing the top, though this is only because Sean swears he caught him reading _Twilight_ and silently wiping away tears.

‘Um, Janos?’ Charles calls out. There’s a quiet hum of hard drives working away and lots of people clicking their keyboards at high speed, like they’re speaking a different language. Charles finds Janos hovering over somebody’s shoulder in a cubicle right at the back.

Janos looks at him briefly before frowning at something on the screen.

‘Fifth floor, eh?’

Charles gives him an apologetic smile. He always feels bad for bothering Janos, especially because Janos always makes sure to bring marzipan rolls just for Charles on Fridays. ‘Yes. Emma asked if you could fix it, there have been some complaints.’

Janos sniffs, nose sticking up in the air. ‘Foolish children. They just don’t know how to print properly. Juvenile delinquents the lot of them.’ He looks at the chart hanging like a prized tapestry, and adds in, ‘You haven’t chosen your weekly weirdo.’ Then he squints, narrows his eyes while Charles squirms on the spot. ‘Hang on a minute, you haven’t even chosen your friendliest patron, and that’s your favourite part. You even have a spreadsheet for that.’

‘I got busy,’ Charles says faintly.

‘Really?’

‘Yes.’

‘Well, I guess you must be, if you’d met Lehnsherr you’d put him on the list straightaway.’ Janos says this a little too fondly, like he’s remembering his first time or something weird like that. Charles can feel the back of his neck beginning to heat up.

‘I did sort of meet him,’ Charles blurts out. It’s hard keep things to himself, he’s not the most effective liar.

Janos moves away from the computer and touches Charles head, like he’s inspecting him for injuries.

‘You came out of that alive?’ he asks in surprise.

Charles nods, finding it all bizarre. Exactly what has Lehnsherr done that’s got everyone terrified? Besides the touching business he’s been polite to Charles.

Janos lets go of him, looks thoughtfully at the ceiling. ‘Hmm, maybe he just wasn’t having a good day. It’s not like him. He was definitely a bastard at college.’

This is probably the first time that Charles has ever heard Lehnsherr as someone beyond the confines of this library. He can’t help but wonder at this.

‘Wait, you know him?’

Janos hitches a shoulder. ‘Yeah, we went to the same college. He had quite a reputation, actually now that I think about it.’ A downward spiral begins to take place in the pit of Charles’ stomach, and he doesn’t know why.

‘Everyone thought he was magnetic and mysterious. Honestly, he was just a cock. There’s nothing mysterious about that.’ Janos laughs at this, then stops when he realises he’s talking to Charles. He coughs and Charles fidgets with his hands. ‘Ignore that, I don’t want to defile your young mind, you’re as pure as the driven snow,’ Janos says, looking utterly genuine and Charles feels the flush spreading to his cheeks.

‘Now go, and tell Emma I’ll get it sorted.’ He shoves Charles in the other direction. ‘We never had this conversation.’

‘Yeah, yeah, I don’t like coming down here either,’ Charles mutters, walking up the stairs.

Janos yells from below, 'It is easy to go down into Hell; night and day, the gates of Death stand wide; but to climb back again, to retrace one's steps to the upper air – therein lies the difficulty.'

‘Virgil,’ Charles hollers back. Yeah, he can understand why Sean thinks he’s Morpheus.

***

This little slip of information from Janos leaves Charles feeling uncomfortable and unsure, and he doesn’t want to define the reason behind this. He spends the morning feeling unhappy and glum, before he finally resorts to lurking in the kids section. The rest of the day is spent reading about _Kipper the Dog_ and his reliable best friend Tiger. This only leaves him feeling even more miserable because he doesn’t even have a best friend. He can’t count Raven, she’s his sister.

All he knows is that he needs to keep away from Lehnsherr.

This turns out to be harder than Charles expected.

****

  
 The next day when he spots Lehnsherr, Charles has to dive behind the desk and crawl to the back offices. Shaw merely thinks he’s inspecting the floors for gum, which is fine as long as it means he can avoid Lehnsherr.

The second time, Charles is trying to haul the book-cart into the elevator when Lehnsherr comes out from the _Science Fiction_ section. Charles slaps those buttons as hard as he can and prays to whatever deity out there that the doors snap shut before he sees Charles.

The third time isn’t a charm. He should find the idiot who claimed such nonsense. He’s re-organising the _Poetry_ section and Logan is hovering around, while Charles is crouched down onto the floor.

‘I’ve seen you before,’ Logan says. ‘You work here.’

Charles tries not to sound put out by this statement, it’s not like he hasn’t heard this a thousand times already. ‘Yes, I do work here. ’

It’s silent after that, the peaceful kind, until it turns awkward and stilted, which is around about the time Charles realises Logan is looking at him, waiting.

He smiles at him. ‘Can I help you with something?’

Logan shifts, leans against the shelf and smiles confidently in return. ‘I was wondering if you might help me with finding a book.’

Charles is about to tell him maybe he should check the catalogue first, when he hears something that sounds like a growl, which is ridiculous because that’s not even possible. He whips his head around and sure enough, there’s Lehnsherr looking slightly pissed, wearing his trademark leather jacket and jeans.

‘You’re very hard to find these days,’ Lehnsherr says to Charles, and it comes out kinder than how he actually looks, then he narrows his eyes at Logan.

Charles feels like he’s watching an episode of _Planet Earth_ and can quite distinctly hear David Attenborough’s voice in the background commenting very seriously, _‘The rare white lion suspects a threat and circles the common bred African lion, its mate clearly threatened by unwanted attention and seeking comfort,’_ and then it takes Charles a moment to figure out that in this scenario he’s obviously got to be the mate.

Sweet Jesus.

****


	2. Chapter 2

Logan looks at Lehnsherr, quietly measuring him up, probably trying to decide where his Achilles' heel lies.

Charles, still sitting on the floor, wonders what’s going to happen next. He's getting a funny feeling that there are two different things being discussed here. That perhaps Lehnsherr is opposed to something Logan may not be aware of. That Charles might possibly not be aware of, at least not fully.

Lehnsherr bares his teeth like a hyena at Logan, takes a step forward and brushes his fingers through Charles’ hair, the touch almost tentative. He nods at Charles and jerks his thumb towards the back row of books, something fierce blazing in his green-grey eyes. Charles can’t help but let out a hopeless whimper before he leaps, follows through on the order, because that’s what it is. Lehnsherr is ordering Charles to get the hell out of the way. He’s running to the elevator, E. E. Cummings clutched tightly to his chest, while their voices echo behind him.

_‘You do not go around harassing young wor-’_

_‘Like you’re any better, ‘_

_‘Touch him and I’ll-’_

Charles hears the elevator ping before the doors open.

_‘You possessive bastard, you're fucking loco-’_

_‘I swear to God, your balls –’_

The last thing he hears before the doors snap shut is: _‘Do not touch the fucking hair you mothafuckah-’_ and the sound of a scuffle.

Dear God, he bets David Attenborough never had to deal with lions like these. They’re more like hyenas.

****

Scott Summers, the security guard, needs to be called in two minutes after Charles makes his escape. A witness, Angel, claims there was a lot of screaming and the tearing of hair; apparently Lehnsherr fights dirty. Charles wouldn't be surprised if this is true. Rumour says they were dragged out by their hair, still wrapped around each other. ‘I tell you,’ he hears the girl say with glee, ‘it was like watching octopuses mate, the way they were pelvis-to-pelvis close.’

‘They were fighting,’ Scott tells Shaw later. ‘Lovers spat, apparently, they were arguing over someone,’ he says with disdain.

‘What do you mean?’ Emma asks, dramatically.

Scott throws Charles a dirty look. ‘Ask him.’

Charles flushes and practically yells, ‘I didn’t know, I swear.’

Scott looks at him. ‘Charles,’ he says, ‘it's a little too late to play, don't you think?’

****

Charles finds Shaw lying prostrate on a couch an hour later, while Emma watches him pensively.

‘Poor man,’ She mutters. ‘Here.’ She tosses Charles a box of tissues. ‘You need to stop crying over everything, Charles. You can’t be adorable all the time, I need to stay mad at you.’

Charles takes out some tissues and blows his nose as obnoxiously as he can. Emma looks mortified, and Shaw begins to rouse, muttering, ‘Heads will roll, throats will be slit, blood will flow like springs of water,’ clearly horrified at the prospect of Lehnsherr trying to defile Charles, even though that’s ridiculous and the furthest thing from the truth. All Charles had said was that Lehnsherr had moved him out of the way, Logan getting territorial over customer service, which they seem to think is 'code' for something else.

‘Janos wants to ask you about the IT funding,’ Emma says quietly to Shaw. ‘Do you want me to send him away?’

‘Tell him I'm dead. Murdered by my own,’ Shaw says, and then gives Charles a dirty look. 'Practically my own child, fraternising with the enemy. That _Lehnsherr._ ’ He hacks out a cough, jowls quivering.

Charles wisely keeps his mouth shut.

****

The next day, Charles finds marzipan rolls from _Li-Lac Chocolates_.

There’s a note attached to the box.

_sorry,  
i really am._   
_E_

Oh.

So this is how a lion woos its mate then.

Charles is definitely falling for this, damn it.

****

By the fourth week Charles officially takes over Story Time, with the occasional aid from Sean. During this time Charles secretly laments the loss of Lehnsherr, and reluctantly admits to himself that maybe he even misses Logan’s perverse recitation of poetry.

Lehnsherr has been banned from the library and Logan on a week suspension. Charles didn’t even know this was possible for a library. It seems Shaw’s library conducts itself under different rules, rules based on the whims of Shaw.

Shaw has taken it upon himself, this personal vendetta of his, which results in Janos creating _Old Western Wanted Posters_ that are composed of with pictures from the security cameras. These are then slapped all over the library by Sean, who’s beside himself with glee. Charles feels like he’s watching a horrid retelling of _Prisoner of Azkaban_ sans the crazy posters of Sirius Black. Instead they’ve got hair pulling and punching rather than mass murder.

This, however, does not explain how Charles continues to get boxes of marzipan rolls. It also doesn’t explain how Lehnsherr even knows about Charles’ unhealthy obsession with them.

****

On the third day after ‘ _The Incident_ ’ as Emma is calling it, Charles gets another box from _Li-Lac Chocolates_. This time it is filled with Busch Almond Logs and Peanut Butter Puffs and Butterscotch Crunch. Charles doesn’t know if he should be worried that Lehnsherr thinks he’s some PMSing girl who constantly needs doses of chocolate, or if he should do the hula dance in as much of a dignified way as possible, because good God, look at all that chocolate.

It’s no surprise when Shaw finds him later, face smothered in chocolate, and vehemently denying Lehnsherr’s been sending him stuff.

****

On the fourth day, Charles gets a completely different box, which is odd because he was getting used to the gift boxes and shopping bags. Instead he is greeted by a picture of hens skipping around with rolling pins and aprons, until he sees that it reads _Two Little Red Hens_. Inside he finds an assortment of cupcakes, such as Red Velvet, Marble and Vanilla. Sean watches enviously as he enters new books into the online system, which is ridiculous because Charles always shares. He has to dig around to find the note, there usually is one.

_don’t speak to logan. he’s a prick.  
E_

Charles can’t help but feel both outraged by this order and curious, because why would he?  Logan isn’t allowed to enter here. Scott would recognise him.

He slaps Sean’s hand away when it tries to creep into the box.

‘It’s mine,’ he says sharply.

Sean gives him a worried look, like he’s going to start saying _my precious_ and turn into Gollum.

****

On the fifth day when he gets the same box, this time filled with nothing but The Brooklyn Blackout, Charles finally awakens from his haze of deserts which leaves him eager and compliant. He comes to the realisation that Lehnsherr, the sneaky little sneaker, is trying to seduce him one cupcake box at a time.

Lehnsherr must clearly have an accomplice, and all fingers point to Janos.

****

On the sixth day Charles tries his hardest to avoid the next box, this time filled with an assortment of cupcakes. He can see Sean and Emma eyeing the box just like the pair of vultures from _Ice Age_. In fact he can practically hear the music playing in the background with little difficulty, _‘food, glorious food, we're anxious to try it, three banquets a day --our favourite diet-_ ’.

It’s a funny thing, what Charles’ life has come to.

The minute he turns his back and heads to the elevator with his book cart, Charles can already hear the box being torn apart all the way from the staff room by Sean. Emma lets out a shriek that would make a Valkyrie proud.

It’s during lunch break that Charles can’t take it anymore, particularly now that he’s seen precisely how many pieces Sean can stuff into that mouth of his when challenged by Shaw, Emma egging the two on. Shaw is still unaware of who's sending all this confectionery. When the last piece of chocolate cupcake is left, the final portion between victory and loss for Shaw, Charles snatches the box, grabs the cake and eats it all in one go. Well, as much as he can without choking.

Shaw throws him a dirty look before stalking away, mouth still covered in peanut butter.

Sean looks like he’s going to keel over any second; Emma has to thump him on the back just to stop him from choking. It’s when they’ve left that he sees the dog tags sitting in the exact place where he picked up the last cupcake, waiting for him it seems.

Tentatively, Charles takes them out, watches the way the metal constantly glints. They’re different, oval-shaped instead of square, obviously designed to be broken in half. There’s a series of numbers and the letter _L_ hidden in the corner.

They look like military tags.

Charles looks around for a note, except there isn’t one.

It seems Lehnsherr wants the dog tags to do all the talking and Charles can’t help but wonder if maybe he’s been going about this the wrong way. Maybe Lehnsherr isn't kidding around.

Maybe Charles doesn't want him to.

****

Charles starts wearing the dog tags, but only because he’s worried he might lose them. It's not because he misses Lehnsherr, _The Hip Molester._

He ignores the wolf whistles from Sean the following day. He has to remind himself it’s undignified to flip him the bird.

****

It’s during story time that Logan makes his ill-fated appearance.

Charles has a sock puppet on his left hand, his right clutching a copy of _The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe_ as Sean narrates. Charles is supposed to be Mr Tumnus, though this is only because Sean preferred to take on the role of Lucy, said only he could master her _delicacy_. Shaw has taken preference over the White Witch, and so next week Charles knows they’ll have to endure Shaw’s _‘thespian’_ version of story time.

Sean is supposed to talk about _‘hand shaking’_ and Mr Tumnus is to be confused by the bizarre idea. Instead Sean goes off course and misses his lines. Charles is about to kick him in as much of a subtle way possible in front of small children when he notices exactly what has frozen Sean, mouth gaping open like a drowning fish struck midair.

Logan is returning books at the front desk and Scott is watching him like a hawk, clearly waiting for an opportunity to tackle him to the ground.

There’s a moment, it’s quick and fast, but it’s there. Charles is worried; the shiver of fear running up his spine makes him sit up straighter. Charles knows a week is up, Logan can now officially return to the library. Lehnsherr is not keen on him talking to Logan, though in all honesty, Charles doesn’t mind Logan- he’s nice in his own way.

And so Charles knows, without even knowing how he’s aware of this, that where Logan is, Lehnsherr will follow right after, particularly when it comes to Charles.

So of course, when Logan winks at him, Charles should have expected what happened next.

 ‘Holy shi-'

‘Cow,’ Charles whispers furiously, they’ve got kids around them for goodness sake.

‘Holy cow,’ Sean repeats. ‘He’s not supposed to be here.’

‘I think the week’s up,’ Charles explains, both of them still staring at Logan. Emma is shooting deathly glares at Logan, who’s too busy watching Charles, clearly thinking something sinister.

Charles decides it’s best to carry on with their story; the kids are starting to get twitchy.

‘Come on, it’s your turn.’ Charles nudges Sean, who reluctantly begins again with his breathless dialogue.

It’s a painful twenty-minute during which Charles keeps throwing furtive glances towards the front desk, though there is no point to this after a while because Logan disappears into the elevator. Charles can’t help but let out a relieved sigh.

After they’ve put the puppets away and Sean is busy doing something with Janos, Emma casually taps her fingers against the polished wood and says, ‘I think that went rather well. I believe Logan won’t be doing anything silly today, but that’s probably because Lehnsherr isn’t here.’

Charles nods, foolishly believing this.

****

Charles is on the ground floor, all the way at the back trying to place returned books onto the shelf. It’s late in the evening and there isn’t really anyone here. Because it appears this is what Charles’ life has come to, Charles is valiantly trying to move the books aside on the top shelf to make more room when he hears somebody cough next to him.

For a moment Charles thinks it might be Lehnsherr and tries to quickly push down the feeling of euphoria that bursts through.

It’s Logan who stares back at him, leaning against the shelves a few metres away.

‘So, I know we started off on the wrong foot, but I just want to say, I’m sorry.’ Logan doesn’t look terribly sorry, in fact he looks like the cat that ate the canary, and Charles might just be the canary. ‘You know, about the other day.’

‘Oh,’ Charles says, wondering if there’s a way out of this should things turn out wrong. ‘That’s fine, really. You don’t need to apologise. Just try not to do it again.’

Logan smirks at him. ‘Yeah, sure, I can do that.’

Charles smiles politely in return and then carries on shuffling books around, hoping that’s the end of it.

‘I was wondering,’ Logan continues on blithely, ‘you and I could go find this book I’ve been looking for.’

Charles slowly shifts on the stepladder to look at him, stunned over the possibility that Logan might be hitting on Charles. He wants to know if he’s been walking around all this time with a neon sign across his back that says, _‘Blushing Virgin Here, Ready to Mingle, Bring your Disco Stick, Boys!’_ because that’s not what Charles wants, at least not from Logan.

Logan carries on. ‘And then I’ll take you out somewhere nice for pizza.’

‘I’m not sure that’s a good idea,’ Charles says hesitantly, concerned he’s entered a corny Mills and Boon romance plot- _librarian seduced by the wolverine-like stalker beneath the tourism section._ It’s the sort of stuff Shaw would enjoy. ‘I mean it’s awfully kind of you to suggest, but I don’t really know you and I don’t think we have much in common.’

‘We both wear dog tags, that’s one thing we got in common,’ Logan retorts, tugging the chain out.

Charles looks down and realises they’ve slipped out of his shirt, and can’t quite stop the flush that begins to spread. They’re almost like an invisible brand that says more than Charles ever could.

‘They’re not mine,’ Charles says in a rush. ‘I’m keeping them safe for someone.’ He has to grip the shelf in case he starts to wobble again like the fool he is, and then end up being caught by Logan like some sort of bride in a Hallmark Original Movie.

'What do you mean they're not yours?'

But before he can respond, there’s a sudden commotion in the distance and Charles is damn certain that it’s Sean who’s shrieking all the way from the front.

‘Get your ass off that,’ Sean hollers, sounding both terrified and angry.

Charles looks at Logan, wonders if this is going to get difficult.

It sounds like a battle cry and Charles knows that the next voice belongs to Janos. ‘You’re dead to me, Lehnsherr, DEAD YOU FUCKERRRR!’

Sweet Jesus, Lehnsherr is here. Oh God, Lehnsherr is here and he’s panicking like a girl inside. Charles can’t quite decide if he’s excited or furious.

Charles hears Lehnsherr’s voice for the first time in what feels like months. ‘I thought you were keeping a fucking eye on the prick?’ he yells, still not near the back and Charles knows the idiot is making his way here.

'You ruined my computer, I hope he bitch-slaps you!' Janos shouts back.

‘That’s Harper’s Bazaar you neanderthal,’ Emma hollers.

Charles decides he needs to get off the ladder if he wants to at least look dignified, but Logan ruins his plans by doing the unthinkable.

He moves forward, smirks a little, and in lieu of helping him get off touches Charles’ hip, his large hand splaying all over his right hip.

It’s quite possible that Charles is stunned into silence for the first time in his life.

Lehnsherr comes storming in round the corner and stops in his tracks when he sees Logan with his petty claws all over Charles' hip.

‘Oh,’ Lehnsherr says detached and slightly off.

There is a tense, absolutely deadly moment of silence.

‘What the hell are you doing here?’ Logan says at last, but Lehnsherr isn’t looking at him, instead his gaze is focused on Charles’ hip.

‘Oh,’ Lehnsherr repeats, before straightening himself and taking a halting step back and Charles knows this is all wrong, that this isn’t how he wants Lehnsherr to see him, like some sort of idiot who loans out his hips for petting under the _Tourism_ section.

Logan says, ‘Fuck off, Lehnsherr, I’ve got a date to make.’

Lehnsherr looks abjectly mutinous.

‘This isn’t,’ Charles starts, slaps Logan’s hand away while Lehnsherr begins to retreat, and bloody hell, OK, he admits reluctantly to himself, OK. Fine. Charles maybe, quite possibly has some feelings for Lehnsherr, that maybe three more boxes of cakes and marzipan rolls would have sealed the deal and made Charles fall in love with Lehnsherr- _with Erik_. There isn’t anyone else besides Lehnsherr that Charles is OK with touching his hips like that. Charles wants Lehnsherr, doesn’t he realise this? There’s no going back now, not after all that confectionery. ‘This isn’t what it looks like, he’s not...we’re not doing anything.’

‘It looks like you’re going on a date,’ Lehnsherr says, slowly.

Charles scrunches up his nose, shoves _A Complete Travel and Tourism Guide to Spain_ into the shelf because Janos is going to kill him if he damages it. ‘Which I said no to.’

‘That’s because he hasn’t heard the rest of it yet,’ Logan adds, scowling down at his twitching hand.

Lehnsherr is staring at Charles. ‘I know I’ve been,’ he says awkwardly, before stopping. ‘I thought you...was it…’ but he finally settles on, ‘Did I do it wrong?’ Which is even worse, Charles doesn’t know what to say to that other than no, _OK, Lehnsherr was creepy in the beginning, but then he started courting Charles like a Victorian heroine, and somehow he’s fallen for it and Lehnsherr’s ruined Charles for others_ , except he doesn’t know how to say this without it coming out wrong.

Shaw’s voice breaks through the silence, howling, ‘YOU WILL DIE, LEHNSHERR!’ from the back, and he knows Scott and the others must be coming now, like a herd of elephants.

So Charles does the one thing, the _only_ thing that pops into his mind when he sees the metal glinting from Logan’s chest. He pulls up Lehnsherr’s dog tags, wobbles a little on the ladder and waves them around like an idiotic wombat.

Lehnsherr looks confused until he moves closer and realises exactly what Charles has been wearing all this time.

‘See?’ Charles says, hoping Lehnsherr, the stupid man-child, gets what Charles is trying to say.

Lehnsherr’s face breaks out into a slow, pleased smile and Charles flushes when he catches the hot and possessive look that passes over Lehnsherr.

‘Fucking hell,’ Logan says.

Charles grins back foolishly, wonders if this is what his life has come to when Lehnsherr stalks up to him, flips Logan the bird, lifts him off the ladder and puts him down.

Lehnsherr hooks a finger possessively under the chain and tugs at it, and Charles can’t stop the way his breath hitches when Lehnsherr grabs his hip, rubs his thumb over the jutting bone before he leans forward and says, ‘OK?’

Charles nods. ‘OK.’

And then Lehnsherr kisses him.

Somewhere in the background Charles hears Shaw yelling, ‘GET HIM, THIS IS MUTINY!’

****

Kissing Lehnsherr- Erik, he has to remind himself it’s Erik now- is a bit like trying to get every last drop of really good coffee from a really slow coffee machine. One minute it's running smoothly, all _oh, hey let me give you my sweet goodness and stick it all in your mouth_ and the next it’s all _not now, I’m not ready, in fact you’re not ready for my caffeinated loving_. It’s like drawing blood from a stone and it’s all because Lehnsherr thinks Charles is too innocent and pure.

Of course, Charles doesn’t learn any of this until after _‘The Incident’_ version 2.0. Up until that point Charles thinks it’s all going to go swimmingly well now that Erik knows Charles doesn’t have any plans of riding off into the sunset with Logan.

Shaw slaps them all back to reality.

****

Lehnsherr kisses slow and tentative, like he’s trying to figure out if this is real or not, until Charles surges forward, grabs a fistful of hair and kisses him like he’s desperate for it, which he is at this point.

When they pull apart to breathe, Erik presses a thumb to Charles' lower lip, pupils blown wide but otherwise appearing composed. Charles can’t quite stop the question from slipping out. ‘You won’t leave me will you?’

‘Good God man, this is disgusting,’ Logan mutters from the side, still watching them with abject horror.

Lehnsherr looks confused for a moment until he leans in and breathes his answer against Charles' lips, ‘I’ll be here for as long as you want me,’ and kisses the corner of his mouth.

Which is around about the time that Scott comes storming in and tackles Lehnsherr to the ground, Shaw panting right behind him, wielding a copy of _The Complete Miss Maple_ by Agatha Christie, like that’s actually going to terrify Lehnsherr into submission.

Emma follows after him and jumps Logan, which would be amusing under different circumstances. But right now Charles feels like he’s on _America’s Most Wanted_ and any minute now John Walsh is going to say, ‘ _and remember, you can make a difference,’._

Instead all he sees is a furious looking Shaw.

****

  
An hour later in the staffroom, Shaw is still yelling and Charles is amazed he hasn’t passed out in mortification. It’s one thing to get caught kissing, it’s another to be caught with the enemy by your newly appointed surrogate father.

‘I’ve seen that stupid Vampire Journal program thingy that Sean watches, and how all the kids are getting jiggy in each others beds and necks. I don’t care how dope his ride is, he’s banned for life,’ Shaw says, nostrils twitching.

Charles scuffs his toes against the floor and looks at the ceiling. ‘But I really like him, he’s not that bad.’

Shaw lets out a puff like he’s a dragon. ‘Well of course you-' and then he stops like he’s had a sudden epiphany. ‘It’s that hot rod Lehnsherr isn’t it? You’ve been feeding me his cupcakes all this time,’ Shaw says, appalled.

Charles scowls at this. ‘Well, you stole them from me. And anyway, he was trying to woo me,’ Charles explains with a dreamy expression.

Shaw looks disgusted. ‘Wooing? What kind of wooing is this? You’re too young to be wooed. What sort of imbecile woos with confectionery?’

‘You ate it didn’t you, I’d consider that wooed,’ Charles mutters.

Shaw’s left eye starts to twitch and this is around about the time that Charles needs to get this sorted. He can see Emma and Sean’s noses pressed against the glass door.

Chickens.

‘I really like him Shaw. He’s been nice to me all this time,’ Charles says, privately wondering if Shaw would kill Lehnsherr if he figured out exactly how else the wooing took place, a la _Hip Molesting._

Shaw sniffs disdainfully. ‘We’ll see.’ It’s when Charles trudges back to the door when Shaw adds in, ‘And I’ve seen _Atonement_ , so there’ll be none of this hanky panky in between the Regency section, my dear boy.’

Oh God, he doesn’t know what concerns him more, that Shaw has watched the movie or that he’s been critically evaluating the mechanics of sex in his library.

****

The library feels like a morgue after that.

Shaw really does live up to his code-name the _Nazi_ , harassing everyone and running the library with such ruthless efficiency that Charles is beginning to wonder if this is the same man.

Shaw makes Emma drag the brand new books, delivered courtesy of Alex, who’s their new delivery boy. She has to stamp them all with their official logo and write the code numbers by hand because Janos is updating the system.

She’s fuming by the time she’s on the fourth book and shooting dark looks in Charles’ direction.

Charles is punished by pushing the book-cart around all day and placing all the returned books back onto the shelves. He sulks a little in the nonfiction section. This is how Sean finds him later, reading _The Barefoot Contessa Cookbook_ by Ina Garten.

‘You look like a Victorian heroine with a case of the vapors,’ he says gleefully.

Charles sniffs disdainfully and continues reading.

‘I thought I’d come by and tell you, you’ve got another box of deserts.’

Oh.

****

Janos is at the front desk.

‘Here.’ He slams the box down. ‘He better be giving it to you good after this, I’ve had enough of his mooning,’ he mutters before stalking away.

Charles looks at the box and sees the obnoxious writing at the top that says in capital letters- SHAW.

Charles is confused and somewhat perplexed by this turn of events. When Shaw comes out from the back and narrows his eyes when he spots the box, Charles thinks maybe they should have called Shaw their local _La Llorona_ instead.

‘What is this?’ he asks, shooting a suspicious look at the front entrance, like he expects Lehnsher to come storming in with whipped cream cans squirting in the air.

‘I don’t know.’

Shaw leans forward, and clearly he must have seen his name scrawled over the top, because he snatches it off the desk and walks away, which is when Charles realises exactly what Lehnsherr might be up to.

‘Well, I’ll just go check this out,’ Shaw mumbles as he strokes the box.

Lehnsherr, the sneaky little cheater, is trying to woo Shaw into compliance.

****

  
 Like clockwork over the next three days Shaw continues to get mystery boxes filled with mysterious things and Charles spends the time feeling slightly envious and jealous. But then, like clockwork, Charles sneaks out during lunch breaks and Lehnsherr is always outside, waiting for him.

And it’s odd to suddenly see Lehnsherr as something other than the slightly creepy dude who had too many piercings. Instead he’s Erik, the guy who takes Charles to local Cafés and bistros for lunch. Who’ll give him pie but only if he chooses something healthy because he’s starting to see that things aren’t always perfect at home. He’ll listen to Charles babble on and on about molecular biology and genetics and Raven and Hank, and merely scowl while Charles moons over Mr Darcy and that scene where he rises from the lake, all dripping wet.

Somewhere in between the second and third day he’ll ask, ‘Does this mean you’re mine now?’ and Charles will nod clumsily, forget his slice of apple pie and say, ‘Yes,’ and Erik will kiss and suck marks into his skin.

By the fourth day, when Shaw is delivered a box filled with Petrossian Blueberry Tart's and Strawberry Mille Feuille's, he scowls and says reluctantly, ‘All right, I guess I’ll reconsider that ban.' He gives Charles a sinister look.  ‘So how was your lunch date? Was it hoppin?’

Charles splutters. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about. Eat your food.’

In the distance, Sean is typing away on the computer, humming, _‘don't worry 'bout a thing, 'cause every little thing gonna be all right…’_ and Emma is whistling along with him at the chorus.

It's times like these that Charles really questions his sanity.

****

_Epilogue_

 

_  
_

‘Congratulations.’ Janos says, dryly, when he sees the dog tags a few days later.

Charles blushes, and straightens out the books, trying to not look like he’s just spent the past five minutes making out with Erik and getting his hip molested in the process.

‘It was really kind of sad and pathetic watching him pine after you, considering how clueless you are,’ Sean adds in, amused, as he reads _Twilight_.

Charles blows his nose in response, having caught a bout of summer flu, and Sean pulls a disgusted face at him, throwing a pack of tissues in his direction.

Shaw officially de-banned Erik once he realised Erik was the best thing since sliced bread when it came to confectionery. Although, he continues to give pointed looks and ‘the birds and bees’ talks which just leave Charles feeling embarrassed and running for the hills.

‘You didn’t know what he was up to either,’ Charles says with huff. ‘You could have told me if you knew so much.’

‘Yeah right, watching him pant and lust after you, his forbidden temptress, was more entertaining than watching Meredith and McDreamy sigh and long for each other.’

Charles doesn’t even know what to say to that.

The thing is, Charles thought being with Erik -who he finally discovers is actually only four years older than him and studying Architecture at college- would be difficult, though it turns out that the simple things don’t really matter. Erik is stubborn as a mule and he gets awfully moody when Alex gets too chatty with Charles.He’ll huff and puff and scowl, but Charles finds him scowling adorable, so it doesn’t really work.

When Charles and Emma adopt a stray kitten and secretly feed it food in the staff room, he learns that Erik is immune to it, until he actually sees Charles holding a kitten. He’s pretty docile after that.

Along with this comes the discovery that Erik is hell bent on keeping things simple between them which, reluctantly, Charles admits is nice, though it does take a toll on his libido, especially when he’s snug and warm in Erik’s arms.

He spends the rest of the day going through the books, ordering sock-puppets and new children’s books.

At five o’ clock Erik makes his appearance at the front desk. Scott throws him a dirty look, still annoyed with him. They’re going to watch _The Lion King_ in 3D, which Charles had to pout and plead to see, and even though Charles is feeling under the weather there’s no way he’s missing this.

Erik leans over the desk and gives him a quick kiss, asking, ‘You ready?’

‘Yes, just let me finish this entry,’ Charles says with a bright smile, feeling tingly and flushed.

He scowls a little when Charles sneezes and pulls out a packet of Glazed Cinnamon Rolls clearly baked by Azazel. That’s another thing he learns, Azazel is actually Erik’s roommate and the one who made some of those cupcakes.

‘Here, I snuck these out for you,’ he says, gruffly, and Charles tries not to melt because Erik is that kind of a contrary soft hearted idiot, a bit like a truffle. Although he'll vehemently deny it, still under a false impression that he’s badass.

Sean whistles from the side and says, ‘Enjoy the trip, Mr and Mr Lehnsherr.’

Erik just smirks and slides a warm palm down the small of Charles’ back, moves him until he is pressed against Erik’s body, chin resting on his shoulder and Erik brushes a kiss to his temple. Sean covers his eyes in horror.

 _Well_ , Charles thinks privately, _it's got a nice ring to it._

****

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah. If you feel weirded out, I get it.  
> There's a 10 Things I Hate About You reference in this part.  
> 


End file.
